


The Devil's Lettuce

by locusdesperatus



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Deepthroating, Drugged Sex, Gangbang, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Oral Sex, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus
Summary: All things in moderation.Especially herbs.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Other(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 58





	The Devil's Lettuce

The thing about addiction, the thing that no one likes to talk about, is that sometimes you _don't_ want to quit. Sometimes, you don't care about your safety or wellbeing, or any other reason that's fed to you. People are usually satiated when you tell them you're working on it, or that you're doing better, but lying is so terribly easy. 

That was the trouble with herbs. They were easy to get, easy to ingest, and had "viable uses in the field". The DSO didn't give a shit about how frequently their agents used the plants. Lots of agents were addicted to them, and not just because of the minty tingle they left on your skin. 

Leon looked down at his sat phone, tracking the approaching squad. They were close, maybe a mile out. He would have to hold out a bit longer. Climbing a tree had seemed like a good idea, a good way to escape the snarling, biting undead, but now he had to be rescued like a scared kitten. He knew it would come with a price- no doubt the BSAA troops sent to retrieve him would pass the story around. Leon S. Kennedy, top DSO agent, found fraternizing with an unknown coniferous acquaintance.   
Or, they'll forget about the whole thing, and he can go home and sleep in peace. Knock on wood. His head was a little fuzzy, a side effect of the herbs he'd taken a few minutes ago. It had been his second triple dose of the day, much more than he usually took. After nearly busting his knee on some janky metal scaffolding, he was grateful for the relief. The only problem was the negative effects. He could manage it well with one triple dose, the sweating and shaking mild enough that he could blame it on adrenaline. A second dose would introduce the delirium, leaving him feverish and confused.   
Worst of all, the drugs would boil up into his nervous system, making his skin sensitive and itchy. He needed to be touched and caressed, needed the slow slide of hands over his hips and thighs. Fingers dipping between his legs to rub at his most sensitive spots. Fuck, it was already starting.

"Come on." He cussed at the sat phone. The sooner he could get out of here, the better. The trip back to base would be hell, especially crammed into a chopper with seven other men, but he would manage. 

Because of his status in the DSO, he was afforded his own room back at base, which was a blessing, since he needed to take out all this energy on something. He could swipe a nightstick from one of the mercs that were always hanging around, and use that to get himself off. Thighs pressed together, he groaned softly. Just the thought of what was coming, planning out his own pleasures, was making the urge worse.

"Fuck it." Leon leaned against the trunk of the tree, hooking one leg over a branch beside him. The other balanced him precariously, but he paid it no mind as he worked open his pants. Gloved fingers dipped below his waistband, and he shivered at the touch of cool rubber on his skin. Trailing lower, he pressed up against his clit, biting his lip to keep quiet. His body shivered a little, torn between the pleasure and the shame of touching himself in front of an undead crowd. Eyes landing on their slack faces, Leon shivered again. What would happen if he were to fall, he wondered. His legs pushed apart a bit more, giving them a better view. 

It was depraved, the idea of the zombies pleasuring him, and he felt guilty for even thinking it, but the idea of those horrible teeth coming close to his cunt made him shudder and clench down around nothing. The rubber grips on his gloves pinched him as he rubbed them through his folds, spreading slick around. Warmth pooled in his spine, the itch soothed as he teased his clit until it swelled.   
Sweat built up on his forehead and chest, sticky beneath his shirt. What he wouldn't give for a cold shower, to take the nozzle and aim the spray to stimulate him further. The high pressure shower head had become one of his favorite ways of getting off. 

"Agent Kennedy?" 

"Shit!" He untangled himself, doing up his pants and straightening his jacket. Pressing his fingers to the talk key on his headset, he realized just how sticky they were. "Go ahead." 

"We're closing in. Are you under cover?" One of the men asked.

"I'm up in a tree." Leon admitted. "Just try not to aim high."

"Copy that." The line went dead, and seconds later, the grove below him erupted in a hailstorm of bullets. Leon tucked his knees up, giving the gory scene a distasteful look. He was thankful for the rescue, make no mistake, but this would be his second pair of ruined boots in a week. No matter what the dry-cleaners said, nothing ever truly washed away the smell.   
Leon groaned in annoyance, partly because of his soon-to-be ruined shoes, and partly because the itchiness was starting to return in full force. If he'd had just a little more time, he could've gotten himself off and eased the pressure on the trip home. Now, it would be much worse.   
"Clear." His radio warbled. He began to climb down from his perch, huffing in frustration. 

"Did you get chased by the neighbor's dog, Kennedy?" One of the men yelled up.

"Fuck off." Leon yelled back. He set his foot down angrily, gasping when the branch snapped beneath him. He was freefalling for only a half second before he managed to grab onto another limb. The hard stop made his shoulders protest, and he bounced off the trunk painfully, but he ignored it in favor of finding purchase for his feet. As he sat down, catching his breath, he shifted, and nearly fell again. "Fuck-" he tightened his grip. "No, stop." He chided himself. Moving around had rubbed his clothing against his clit, making it twitch from the attention. "Damn it." He squeezed his legs together. "Now is _not_ the time!" Those damn herbs would be the death of him.

"Should we call the fire department?" 

"You know it's within my purview to have you put on latrine duty, right?" Leon snapped. On shaky legs, he climbed down the remaining expanse of tree, landing in a puddle of blood and guts with a sticky _squelch!_ All things considered, and with his luck, he was grateful that he didn't slip and land on his ass.   
"Just… get me out of here." Leon said, ignoring the medic who tried to grab his arm. "I'm fine, just… just too warm." He stripped off his jacket, tying it around his waist. It barely seemed to help, his chest, back, and sides damp with sweat. 

"Sir, please, I should really take a look-"

"Once we're at evac." Leon cut off the medic again. "Once we're there, okay? I just need to sit down and drink some water."

"Y- yes, sir." The kid stammered. He flitted away to check on the other men, moving between them as they all headed back to the chopper. The walk was torture, Leon's clothes tugged and rubbed on his skin, highlighting the itch and worsening his arousal. He kept his arms close to his chest, attempting to hide how his nipples were poking through his shirt. It was embarrassing, and would give away exactly what was wrong with him. Surely, these men were capable of putting two and two together. Most had probably taken herbs in their time, maybe not as often as he did, but still… They had to understand, right? There was no shame in having to take more than the ideal amount of a natural remedy… even if the adverse effects were rather unusual.

"Fuck." Leon cussed, scratching at his stomach. He was daydreaming, thoughts running wild. His plan was to get back to base, strip down, and curl up in front of a box fan. He'd definitely be jerking off as well, he just wasn't quite sure where that fit into the agenda. 

By the time he'd figured out his recreational activities, they'd made it back to the extraction point. Leon climbed aboard the chopper without a word, hunkering down in the corner. He heard the other men climb on, all settling down in the rickety seats beside him. Generously, they gave him some space, and he guessed his ragged appearance and hostile attitude had put a healthy amount of fear in them.

"Sir?" 

That damn medic.

"Fine." Leon uncurled himself, allowing the fresh-faced kid to check him over. He zoned out, staring at the door to the cockpit. The fucking heat was getting to him.

"Your vitals are normal, but you look a little unwell, so I'm going to give you a triple dose of herbs and see if that helps."

"Wait, n-" Leon barely managed to get the syllables out before the needle was in his arm. He slammed his hand into the wall of the chopper.

"Sir?" The medic jumped, pulling away the empty cartridge. 

"I… already had two triple doses today." Leon ground out. He watched the man's eyes go wide in shock. 

"Oh- oh… oh no. I'm so sorry, sir, I just thought that- well, I assumed- uh, I should've-"

"Save it." Leon waved his hand. "It's fine, I'm not going to report you or anything. Just… fuck, ask next time." He grumbled. The medic scurried away before he could change his mind. Leon cursed again, harsher. He was screwed. Already, the heat, the itch, was intensifying. It would be unbearable soon. His traitorous body began a slow rhythm, clenching around nothing and rocking his hips. Not enough for the other men to notice, but enough for him to grind against the seat. His chest felt tight, as if he was wearing his binder again. His own skin was too small, squeezing him uncomfortably.   
"Fuck, fuck!" He hissed. Sweat rolled down his neck, the touch lighting up sensitive nerves. A soft moan escaped him, and he cursed. It was too much. A quick scan of the plane confirmed that he didn't recognize any of the men. Good. Leon stood up, heading over to the skeeviest looking one of the bunch. It was some skinhead marine, with biceps that rivaled Chris Redfield's impressive arms. He seemed shocked when Leon dropped into his lap, dainty arms looping around broad shoulders.

"What're you doin', sweetheart?" He asked. His teeth were yellowed, probably from his chew habit. 

"Need a favor." Leon groaned out, pulling his shirt out from his pants. He was undoing buckles and straps with practiced ease. "Want you…" He took one thick, sausage-like finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. "To get me off." Said finger found its way, with some help, into the hem of his boxers. The marine- Jacobsen, his name badge read- didn't need any further encouragement. He followed the neatly groomed happy trail, eyebrows shooting up when he found the sticky wetness of Leon's arousal.

"Well, well." He said, showing all his teeth in an unnerving grin. "What have we here?"

"What is it?" One of the other men asked.

"Agent Kennedy has a pretty little pussy hidden under all these layers." Jacobsen told the group. Whoops and hollering surrounded them for a moment. "You gonna share, princess? Gonna let us all have a taste of you?" 

"Y- yeah, just- just make me cum. I need it so bad." Leon begged. He didn't have to tell them twice. The world spun as he was lowered to the floor of the plane. Three or four sets of hands were working on getting his clothes off, pinching and groping along the way. He squirmed mindlessly between them, body heating up further in response to their touches. Jacobsen tore Leon's boxers off of him, fed up with being gentle. Finally able to get at what he wanted, the marine slung pale legs over his shoulders before diving in. Leon cried and moaned at the roughness, eyes rolling back in his head in response to the tongue lapping at his clit. He tried to grind down against it, clever hips held tightly by large hands. 

"Head back, baby, open wide." Another man tapped his jaw, getting his attention. Leon barely acknowledged him, sticking out his tongue obediently. He gagged around the cock that was thrust into his mouth, his whole body contracting.

"Hey, go easy on him." Jacobsen warned. "No sense in breaking him before we've all had a turn."   
There was a grumble of agreement from the group, and Leon was relieved when the man using his hair as a handhold let up a little. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax and open up his throat. It was hard when Jacobsen was insistent on tasting every inch of him, his tongue devilish and quick between trembling thighs. 

"Look, man." One of the other Marines complained. "I'm sure he tastes good-"

"Like fucking candy." Jacobsen cut in.

"Right." The guy grumbled in annoyance. "But hurry up and fuck him so we can all have a go."

"Fine, fine." 

Leon moaned around the cock in his mouth when a gob of spit landed on his hole. His whole body tensed up and fluttered, thrilled to be used. Jacobsen's cock teased his rim, sliding around the edges and pushing through his folds until it was slick. 

"He's soaked." The man announced. Leon shuddered, his cheeks heating up in shame. He knew it was because of the herbs, but he couldn't use that excuse for the lewd moan he let out when Jacobsen's cock pushed into him. His body shook from the force of the thrusts, rocking him back and forth on the floor of the evac helicopter. He went limp between both men, closing his eyes and letting himself feel every inch, every rough thrust, the scrape of unruly hair against his soft skin. It was so easy to tune it all out, to let the heavy arousal feed him and control him. He was a slave to the raw heat infecting his veins, pumping blood down to his swollen clit and causing it to throb over and over. 

The men took turns, forming neat lines as they rubbed their cocks over his sweaty body. He was a toy between them, letting himself be manhandled and played with. Someone rubbed his clit as they fucked him, making his muffled moans pitch up and become more desperate. He orgasmed with a stifled cry, his whole body clenching up. The man fucking his throat cussed out his appreciation, closing his fingers over Leon's neck in order to feel the swell of his cock through the delicate flesh. 

The haze of the herbs was so powerful, so potent, that Leon didn't even react. He laid still as his esophagus was massaged, eyes glassy and wet with tears from the long minutes spent deep throating the squad. He was so good for them, so sweet and compliant. They praised him over and over, pressing kisses to his chest. They nibbled at his pecs, loving the slightly odd shape and the scarring that gave him away. His nipples rolled between their fingers as they called him their sweet boy, their nasty little cockwhore.

By the time it all died down, when he was left slumped on the floor and leaking, his body was exhausted. The herbs had begun to wear off after orgasm number five- or was it six? He had barely been able to keep track. The waves of pleasure had blurred as they used him, leaving his pussy a wet, swollen mess. He felt so thoroughly used, so broken and fucked up, it was almost laughable.

"Look at you."

Jacobsen was back, kneeling down beside him. Most of the other men were napping or cleaning their gear, ignoring the spectacle before them. Leon blinked a few times, raising a tired hand to brush his bangs from his face.

"You were so good for us." Jacobsen said, helping him sit up. He tutted softly at the gush of cum that coated the floor. "You're filthy. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get clean." He scooped Leon up, setting him down astride his lap. His fingers dipped between widespread thighs, finding the sweet little nub that made the agent buck and moan. He bullied it with the tip of his finger, sliding loose skin around in circles. Leon made soft _Ah! Ah! Oh!_ noises, his hips twitching gently. He was overly sensitive after the gangbang, and his clit throbbed as it was played with. Another orgasm built quickly, his body still eager to respond. Jacobsen murmured sweet nothings to him, coaxing him closer and closer to the knife's edge until he tumbled over. He trembled in the marine's arms, hoping desperately that he wouldn't get a charley horse. 

Instead, big, rough hands began to massage his thighs and waist, bringing him down from his sexual fervor. He melted, becoming a limp pile of skin and bones in Jacobsen's arms. The soft touches felt so good after the fever induced by the herbs.

Leon swore that he'd never let so much of the plant enter his system again. He swore that he'd cut down on how often he fell back on the promise of unnatural healing bathed in a minty tingle. A small part of him protested, insisting that the last hour or two had been the best sex he'd ever had. It was right, of course, he couldn't deny that. Damn his nymphomaniac tendencies. 

Perhaps he could allow himself to use herbs recreationally, as long as they didn't interfere with his job. He made a mental bookmark, his eyes dropping shut with exhaustion. He'd think about it all later, after he'd gotten some rest.

Jacobsen's cooing was the last thing to register as he slumped over and passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Twitter @pointofdespair


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